


Fireteam Daybreak: Into the next life

by TheShadowsmiths



Series: Fireteam Daybreak [2]
Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, FireteamDaybreak, destinythegame - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-11-12 06:06:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11155812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShadowsmiths/pseuds/TheShadowsmiths
Summary: Exo resets can be hard on those who knew them before they forgot them, but even harder on the Exos themselves when they can't make sense of the fragments of their leftover memories.





	1. Past Lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a retrieval on Mars, Merric and Dee encounter a stranger everyone but him seems to remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Find this on Bungie.net** : [Bungie.net](https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/185874635?page=0&sort=0&showBanned=0&path=0)  
>  **Deviantart** : <http://fav.me/d9bhxoo>  
> **Tumblr** : <http://the-shadowsmiths.tumblr.com/post/130239929974/past-lives>

Mars was the last place they had expected to run into trouble. 

Mars was a wasteland inhabited only by the Cabal and the Vex. The orange dunes stretched on for miles between clusters of collapsed, half-buried Golden-age architecture. Once in a while you’d come across an Imperial land tank or a Cabal warship, and the vex had no interest in patrolling the hills, but if you kept a sharp eye and skirted the areas of activity, avoiding confrontation was easy enough. Only time Guardians really had to watch their backs was when they infiltrated controlled zones to gather intel or clear out the enemy. 

It was supposed to be a simple clear and sweep mission, something Merric and Dee had done hundreds of thousands of times, something they could have done in their sleep.

But the enemy had other plans.

Merric’s ghost had nearly finished pulling data from a Vex conflux when their thick, black aura clouded the area, cutting off their escape route. The only way out was up, and Dee was already ahead of him.

“Dee-” 

The Titan whipped around as the Hunter called out to him mid-lift, reached out a hand to slap it over Merric’s forearm as he hit his third jump, and instantly regretted it. He groaned loudly as he reached down to clasp his other hand around his wrist, then yelled as he lurched and threw him in a direction away from the flashing red optics and clanking mechanical joints. 

The Exo fell with a heavy clop but tucked and rolled before he skidded to a stop, popped up onto his feet and sprinted for the cover of the hills, dust puffs and cape flapping in his wake. He quickly glanced around to make sure his partner had followed and caught a glimpse of him just as the Vex cut off his retreat. He hadn’t been so smooth with his fall. 

“Shit-“ 

Merric reached over his shoulder and slung the sniper rifle around the front of him, jumped once, twice, then turned as he made his third jump, snapped the scope to his helmet and pulled the trigger three times; shots rang out and crushed the focusing lenses of three goblins in his path, their screams telling him he had hit his mark. But more were on him, and they were multiplying quickly. 

So quickly that by the time he’d landed and turned around, he’d come face to face with a Minotaur and two Harpies, and an army behind them. Retreat was no longer an option; they were surrounded now, they’d have to fight their way out of this one. 

Merric took a brief moment to analyze the situation, debating whether to fall back for his partner, or fight for the hills where he could get a better vantage point, but as he did the Minotaur swung down on him; he blitzed from one side to the next and took a few steps back as he shouldered the weapon. The Vex had no intention of letting him make plans. 

_I’ve seen what Dee’s capable of, he can take care of himself_ , he decided. From his hip he drew a gold hand canon and spun it around his finger, cocked the hammer with his palm and fired five shots into Minotaur’s focusing lens. It staggered before it exploded. “Ghost, can you give me the rundown? What are we facing here?” he asked while swiveling his head around in all directions. _Nine, fifteen, nineteen… twenty six…_

She blipped angrily a few times before giving him a bit of sass. “Why… I’m fine Merric, thanks for asking!” 

The Exo rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. _Not this again_.

“And in case you were wondering, yes, the extraction was a succe-“

“That’s great, tell me all about it later… just tell me how many!” He dodged plasma fire as the Harpies followed his dive and roll around a dune. 

Silence.

That’d pissed her off, he could tell by the way she was pinging packets to their communications port, trying to overload the connection and shut him out. He popped six more rounds into the harpies, and a few goblins that had flanked him from the left, dodged a Hobgoblin’s line rifle, then stuck a trip-mine to a bounder as he passed, circling back in Dee’s direction; it exploded as the harpies behind him passed into its range, killing both, the force singed the edge of his cape as it flapped in its wake. “Hey- knock it off, we’re in real trouble, now’s not the time to be throwing a hissy-fit!” _Thirty three… thirty seven… Thirty one…_

“You just _LEFT_ me there!”

“Yeah, because if I’d tried to drag you away from the conflux before you were done, I’d never hear the end of it. What do you want, an apology!?” 

“For starters, yes!”

“Oh, you’ve _got_ to be KIDDING…” he groaned as he dodged another sniper shot, tucked and rolled, then threw a knife into the Hobgoblin and leaned away from another shot in the same motion; the Vex collapsed with an angry shriek as its lens shattered. “Can we do this later…? Please!”

“Sorry Micky, you’re on your own. I’m sure you can take care of yourself.”

Merric’s lip curled and his eyes flared under his helmet. Never had he met a ghost as sensitive as his… “Minnie…?” _Forty one, forty four…_ “Minnie!”

“Most of the Vex are leading an attack on the Cabal base just across the ridge,” Dee’s ghost Echo interjected in an attempt to help. “It seems we were just in the wrong place at the wrong time-”

The ground shuddered violently, a dozen vex exploding and evaporating in dazzling arc-light all around them. _Thirty two…_ Dee’s light flowed into him as it was expelled, and he was renewed, lighter, faster. “ _THANK you_ , Echo,” he replied in a grateful but exasperated tone, dropped over the edge of the rock formation to drop down into the circle with Dee and backed up to him until they bumped shoulders. At least forty, maybe fifty… there were so many dots on his radar they had started to overlap. He couldn’t make heads or tails of this without his ghost’s help. “How many Vex are we looking at?”

“By my count, there are a hundred and nine in the vicinity, but about forty seven in the area immediately affecting us.”

“Do you have any idea what they’re after?”

Echo went quiet as it blipped, searching for intel, Merric summoned his light and fired four shots in front of him; nine vex dropped and burned away with the cleansing light, but it had only chipped away at the interior wall of the Vex line. 

Dee spread his hands and feet, then summoned a ward to buy them time, and just as he did Merric caught the glint of a scope on the dune near the conflux they had just scanned. He squinted, zoomed in a little, and was able to make out the form of another guardian- a Hunter, with its eyes fixated on the Cabal legion across the scablands. But what were they doing there…?

Fingers rested soft on the dial of the scope, then twisted two clicks to the right; shifted to the side of the scope and twisted one click up, centered the crosshairs on the Cabal Centurion perched in the lookout overhang to oversee the battle. Hand slowly moved from the dial, down to the trigger guard of the sniper propped up in front of them, the other braced against the stock of the gun to minimize movement. With a deep breath in, and a slow, controlled breath out, they squeezed the trigger with a steady pull. 

The shot echoed throughout the canyon the moment before its head exploded, and suddenly the Cabal were frenzied, the Vex distracted. The army turned its attention to the hilltop for a moment and stopped, chirped in confusion, and turned fully toward the source of the noise. 

The bolt snapped open and ejected the shell, then snapped shut again, swung toward the two guardians and the Vex surrounding them, and fired another round right through the head of a Minotaur in the circle. The Vex screamed, and began to move toward the sniper’s perch, Hobgoblins and Goblins teleporting rapidly toward them.

“Now’s your chance, guardians,” came a female voice over the comm channels, strong and serene, uplifting. “The Vex up the hill are taking a brutal beating from the Cabal. Drive them back here, and you’re home free.”

The men didn’t hesitate to follow. Dee charged from the ward, swinging fists and elbows, sticking grenades, and firing his shotgun into the bellies of anything _close_ , while Merric pulled another hand cannon from his hip and fired one round after another, staggered as many as he could to minimize enemy fire. They shuffled around in a circle for more than a minute as the enemies dropped and thinned, slowly but surely. _Thirty four… thirty one… twenty seven…_ The numbers were almost manageable. 

Then like a hurricane, a wave of Arc energy cut through the flank to his six and cleared a path as the Vex evaporated into dust. Then twelve, then nine, then three… the Bladedancer flurried between enemies with strike after deadly strike, but something was different. This one twirled and leapt with a grace Merric had never seen. Every movement was calculated and intentional, clear and still as a photograph, and beautiful like a dance. He was captivated, entranced by the subtleties in her movement that hinted at which direction she’d move next. Arms soft, wrists stiff as the blades hit, hips and body along for the ride, she twirled, leapt, flipped, arched, and slid… and made it all look so easy. The seconds it had taken for her to clear away the rest of the flock were chaotic and still, but when she was done, Merric found himself nothing short of what he assumed to be breathless. 

The Hunter let her blades dissipate and straightened herself up tall, turned to the two of them and tilted her head. “Now how did the two of you end up in such a terrible mess…?” she laughed quietly with a flick of her wrist. 

Merric attempted a reply, but found it difficult with all of his processes running. The words were all jammed up, and he was hot to the core, throat lights shining bright and full; he was grateful she could not see. 

“Laila… thank the Nine!” Echo exclaimed in a familiar tone, which surprised Merric, if he was honest; he didn’t remember her if they had ever met before. He glanced to Dee, who shook his head and stowed his shotgun for the moment, then bent down to scrounge through the mess for relics. Axiomatic beads would fetch a fair price from Master Rahool. 

“How did you know where to find us…?”

“I didn’t,” she admitted as she took a few steps toward them, glanced back over her shoulder toward the cabal base. “Andal asked me to take out a high-priority target in the area…” she elaborated, shifting her weight from one hip to the other as she stopped and turned back. 

If ever he’d seen a nice pair, hers were certainly the most beautiful he’d ever seen. His throat lights flickered softly and dimmed, bashful; he had to look away. 

“You boys just got lucky.” A little chuckle bubbled in her throat, and it sure was cute, he thought. “I don’t remember you, little one… but it seems you remember me…” She paused as Echo looked down and away toward him hesitantly, then chuckled. “You must have known me in one of my past lives.”

“Yes, actually…” The ghost paused, twitched and blinked, floated back with a small dip, but didn’t elaborate. Now wasn’t the time.

“Laila…?” Her ghost materialized over her shoulder and floated over into her line of sight. 

“What is it Nyx?”

“The Vex are retreating… it seems they’ve lost interest in fighting a losing battle.”

Behind her helmet her brows furrowed, and she turned to look over in the direction of smoke billowing from the base. The Vex never lost interest, never retreated. There was simply no need. _Had they been after something too…?_  
She turned back toward the conflux Merric and Dee had just investigated, then commanded firmly, “Find out why.”

Merric’s ghost had re-materialized at this point, silently hovering close to him, with her eye on the newcomer, reluctant to share what she had learned. He stole a sideways glance at her, a look she knew to be questioning; she sighed and spoke up. “I believe I have the answer to that…” 

Both Laila and Nyx turned their attention to Minnie, as did Merric. 

“What did you find…?” Speaking was easier when not directed at the woman. 

“The Vex intercepted the same intel Andal provided about a high-ranking officer in the area… Bracus Thu’ulm. It seems they had the same idea we did, and it is likely that they would retreat, not out of a fear of defeat, but instead because their target had already been eliminated.”

The female’s head rolled back, a sign of mild annoyance, and she shook her head. “So you’re saying we _helped_ them…?” An unsettling vibe passed between them at the idea. Dee paused from his sifting through the sand to glance over uneasily, clearly irked by this. 

“Don’t say it like that… it’s not like they were grateful for it, they still tried to kill us,” the hunter reminded her.

“It’s okay… I’m sure it’s what they do to _all_ the naughty guardians who steal from their information banks,” she teased in a coy tone and lowered her eyes to him. 

Merric felt her light flutter and knew she was smiling, knew she’d winked at him. How, he did not know ( _light reading among fireteam members took time, much longer than a few minutes_ ), but his eyelids fluttered heavily in response and he became hyper-aware of himself- spinning fans, heated power supply, and pumping coolant all. The words were gone again. 

Nyx blipped quietly a few times at her after a moment of silence. “We should really get going… we still have several bounties to complete for the day, and we don’t want to miss the opportunity.”

“You’re right,” she responded as she passed through the wreckage of decapitated Vex. “Set the ship down near the beacon in the exclusion zone, and bring me my sparrow.”

“Of course…”

No matter how hard he tried, Merric couldn’t take his eyes off her. Something about her was familiar, warm, comforting… things he never remembered feeling, but could easily place based on how he’d heard them described. Wanting to be in someone’s company, to reach out and touch her slender arms, to entwine her nimble fingers with his own… What was _happening_ to him? He looked away again, confused by his desires. 

As her ghost summoned her vehicle, she turned to face them all one last time. “You boys take care…” There was sincerity in her voice, a fondness, and a kindness for those one would wish to meet again. But as she swung one leg over her sparrow, she smirked and saluted. “Don’t make me save you princesses again.”

And then she was gone- racing away across the red sands with a piece of his ceramic heart chasing an image of her that he’d never be able to forget. 

It took him a moment but when his head had cleared, he focused on his companions’ perplexed faces. What were they all staring at…?

“Anything…?” Echo asked first. 

“What?”

“Do you remember _anything_ …? Anything at all?”

Merric paused, caught off guard by the sudden interrogation, then snapped back uncomfortably, “Was I supposed to…?”

Minnie sighed and shook her optic from side to side. “Of course you don’t…”  
“Don’t what?”

“It’s… nothing… it’ll come back.”

“ _WHAT_ will?” he growled at the two ghosts. His patience was wearing thin. Everyone knew something he didn’t, and he’d damn well get to the bottom of it. 

“Past lives,” Minnie offered warily, then quickly changed the subject to avoid further confrontation. She knew Merric, he needed to stop feeling, stop thinking before he’d be able to figure things out. She’d been through this with him four times before, and his programming never changed. “We should be leaving too… the Vanguard will want to know what we’ve discovered.”

Merric reluctantly let the conversation drop, but couldn’t forget about it. He could see the big, dumb grin on Dee’s face through his helmet. 

Merric gave Minnie a sideways leer as she materialized his sparrow. “So… did you know she was there…?”

“I don’t know _what_ you’re talking about.”


	2. Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merric can't get the hunter woman off his mind- he's searched the wilds, the tower, and the city for two years without any luck; then one late night, his luck changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Original publication date** : October 8th, 2015 @ 00:01 to my tumblr blog --- <http://the-shadowsmiths.tumblr.com/post/130728463234/ghosts>
> 
> **Find this on Bungie.net** : [Bungie.net](https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/192302044?page=0&sort=0&showBanned=0&path=1)  
>  **Deviantart** : <http://fav.me/d9cek4n>

He never forgot her. 

There were plenty of times that he didn’t think about her --- missions, bounties, work in general --- but in the silences and the downtime between missions while cleaning his weapons and sharpening his knives, the memory often snuck up and caught him off guard. 

It wasn’t so much a hindrance as much as it was a welcome distraction. He enjoyed replaying the memory and focusing on the little things- the pitch of her voice, the hum of her speech unit when she giggled, her coy body language… she haunted him like a ghost.

Merric had been caught lost in his thoughts many times by Dee and Wylynn since the incident ( _which felt invasive although he couldn’t place why_ ), but fortunately for him, both other members of his fireteam were fairly reserved and generally wouldn’t ask questions about his odd behaviors. Dee might have if he could speak, but Merric had never known him to. What he got instead were a lot of questioning looks and judgmental stares, and every once in a while a big, dumb grin. And he knew what they meant; Echo had translated often enough, and he’d learned. And Wylynn, well… she was too busy placing bets and drinking herself to sleep to notice. 

Although he didn’t do it intentionally, he continued to wear the same armor (only touching up the finish when it needed repairs) and cloak he had when they’d met, on the off chance he ran into her again; he wasn’t sure she’d remember him otherwise. 

A few years passed, during which time he thought he’d seen her rounding a corner or talking to the Vanguard. There were a few times when he’d heard a laugh and sprinted around the corner to find empty space, or uncertainly placed a hand on a guardian’s shoulder, only to realize when they turned that it wasn’t her. Every time he could feel the disappointment growing stronger, and after a while he had almost given up hope. 

It was nearly one in the morning when he received a request from an angry bartender in the civilian district. Wylynn was frequently bounced from bars, half-sober and raving at gamblers that refused to pay their debts, but that night was different. That night she’d burned herself down, and nearly taken the place with her. 

Wylynn had lost her brother at the Gap and been slowly breaking down for the last six years, unable to let him go and truly move past his death. In spite of the Vanguard’s confirmation, she believed ( _truly_ believed) that he was alive and attempting to contact them. And although he wanted to believe it himself, because Nikel had been an excellent comrade and a very close friend, after finding his chestplate pierced clean through by a wire rifle, and retrieved his dead ghost, it was impossible for him to deny that he was killed in action. He was a good hunter, but no Guardian had ever survived so long in the wild without their ghost. It was unheard of. 

So when she’d attempted to confide in their mutual bar buddies and they’d told her to “let it go”, Wylynn exploded. 

After splitting a few tables and setting them on fire, she’d sent one of the largest Titans in the tower flying across the room, right out the door, conveniently enough. 

He arrived mid-fight just in time to see the Titan to slam her into a wall like a hammer to a nail. Wylynn let out a muffled scream of pain, placed her palms between them, and propelled him backwards with a blast of solar wind; he tumbled, rolling heel over head as she wiped the blood from her lips and charged at him with solar light firing wildly from her back. 

_Shit-_

Without hesitating, Merric lunged and grabbed her arm, turned her toward him, and put himself between them. 

“What the hell are you doing!?” she snarled as she thrashed in his grasp, violently jerking herself forward in attempt to move him. 

But the Exo didn’t budge, he had at least two hundred pounds on her. 

“Let me GO!”  
“No.”

“LET, ME, GO,” she cried again, louder, pausing after every word. 

He could feel her light building up the more he resisted, like a backdraft waiting behind a closed door. Whatever had happened, she was an emotional wreck, and that was no easy feat. Perhaps he’d deserved the beating, but this was not the place to settle scores.  

He lifted his free hand and grabbed her other flailing arm with a defiant, “ _No_.” The titan on the ground behind him groaned, rolled over and coughed, spitting out a mouthful of blood as he did. “If you really need to beat the living _hell_ out of him, take it to the crucible. You’re putting civilians at risk here,” he scolded.

Her muscles tensed, her eyes wet and flickered with rage, like a dying star, and she threw herself forward to headbutt him with a loud CLANK and a frustrated yell. Suddenly he knew what this was about. His lips pulled tightly together and he frowned, shook his head, and shifted his hands to grip her shoulders, wrapping his arms with hers so she would do the same. It took a moment or two, but her arms weakly followed, shaking as they gripped his upper arms; her light pushed, exhausted, as it pooled into him, hot and heavy like molten metal. Merric closed his eyes behind his visor, whirred and dimmed his throat lights quietly, the equivalent of a sigh. “Wylie…” 

The blood from the laceration on her forehead trickled down her face as her brow and chin quivered; her lips tightened as she shook her head. “Why doesn’t anyone believe me…? Why won’t they listen…?” she whispered at the end of her breath before taking in another sharply. “Why has everyone given up on him?”

Merric’s jaw clenched and unclenched subconsciously as he waited for the tears to pass… but spoke up when they didn’t. “I know you believe he’s still out there… but you can’t expect everyone to feel the same way.” He paused to allow her time to collect herself, and she took a breath to steady the lurking cries. “They’ve all moved on, because it’s what we _have to do_. Guardians die, it just happens.”

“No…” Wylynn looked at the ground and shook her head slowly. “No, but he’s not-“

“Wylie you have to _let this go_ , he’s DEAD,” he insisted, giving her shoulders a good shake; her head snapped up, and for a moment she looked betrayed. He didn’t miss it, but he did ignore it. “You’re torturing yourself, the longer you hold onto hope, the harder it’s going to be when you do-”

Angrily, she interrupted and tore away from him, jaw set, eyes aflare. “The hell do you know about _torture_ …?” she asked, shaking her head in disbelief. “Every time you lose someone, she just comes back, good as new!” 

There was a coldness in her eyes now that Merric hadn’t seen before, and it perplexed him almost as much as her words. His lips tightened. _What did she say…?_

Wylynn took a few steps away from him and gestured crudely in his direction. “We don’t have a reset switch, you know...” she seethed in a scathing tone, “When we’re gone, we’re gone… so _excuse me_ for holding out hope that I don’t have to lose my brother a second time. I thought of all people _you_ would understand.”

Shoulders settled, head lifted slightly, and lights pulsed before they faded. It had been a long time since he’d felt hurt, and for a moment he wondered what it was about organics that made them feel like they _needed_ to inflict their emotional pain on others. Nikel had been important to him too, more so than most organics; he _did_ understand, somewhere deep down. Merric watched her carefully for a little longer, lifted one hand and shook his head. “I’m sorry.” 

“You should be,” she spat as she turned on heel, flipped him off and stormed away. 

Dumbstruck. He was absolutely _dumbstruck_. If she hadn’t responded to logic or sympathy, then what _did_ she want…? How could he know? The two of them had never been particularly close, at least not that he could remember… then again, that was the thing with his memory. It was fragmented, recalling flashes of his past without any real triggering event. A hand unconsciously lifted to his head and pressed into the plate covering one of his processors, which was running a little hotter than usual. 

At this point the Titan she’d been fighting pushed himself up with a loud groan and limped away while holding his gut. If none of his friends had come to check on him, it probably meant the beating was warranted. _Damn organics…_

“I’m sure she’ll be alright.”

Everything went still the moment he heard her voice, clearing the cloudy turmoil inside like the sun after a storm. What were the chances?

Merric dropped his hand and turned halfway around to glance over his shoulder at her, afraid that if he looked right at her she’d vanish. But that night she didn’t. 

The hunter’s footsteps drew closer and closer until her hips passed into his line of sight, swaying as slow and graceful as he remembered, then stopped just in front of him, the swish of her cloak drawing his attention upward. When he lifted his eyes to hers he’d expected to see her face, but was instead met by the cloth of her hood. _Fair enough_ , he supposed, since he too was not without some sort of social deterrent. Hoods were great for that.

As the seconds passed, he found himself scraping for words, unable to think. Three years of waiting, watching, carefully choosing his words, and none of it mattered now because the cat had his tongue ( _so to speak_ ). His emotions were all muddled, she sure had terrible timing. “You think…?”

“Mmmm…” she mused quietly, half nodded, then smiled to herself, big and bright. He’d never seen an exo smile quite like that… it was convincing. “Yeah… I think so… seems like she has some great friends.”

In the moment she turned to face him, his systems nearly crashed. For a split-second his optics flashed in and out; he heard nothing but static, and then clearly, in several different instances, he saw her face, _recognized_ her... were these memories?

And then he was back, and she was scrutinizing him carefully, brow plates pulling and lifting, lids lowering and squinting… every bit as expressive as a human being. _How odd_ … he thought, as he found himself mirroring her inspection. 

Laila crossed one foot over the other as she came round to stand in front of him with a look of bewilderment so clear he _almost_ knew what she was about to ask. “Do I… know you?”

“Hard to know someone you’ve only just met.” He cringed inwardly, kicking himself for how cliché that may have sounded. 

Another soft smile presented itself into her cheeks, somehow into her eyes… and he paused, overwhelmed by her beauty. Everything about her radiated. 

“…” he hesitated before he admitted, “… though you did save my partner and I on Mars a few years back…”

“Did I now…?” Her lights flashed brightly, surprise flushing into her expression before she laughed in embarrassment. “I’m surprised you remember…”

 _She remembered_. His own lights flickered brightly a few times in excitement as he looked down and away, mimicking the human gesture of pursing his lips as best he could. “I’ve never seen anyone Bladedance like that… it was hard to forget.” He stole a glance at her silhouette as he said this, but she didn’t notice. He was thankful for the privacy his visor provided.  

“Well you really know how to flatter a girl…” she teased with a chuckle as she shrugged and looked away shyly; eyes flickered back up after a few moments. “So you and your Titan friend been must have been staying out of trouble, if you’ve managed to make it through another three years…”

Merric smirked just a little. “Oh no, we’ve found a lot of trouble…” he replied honestly with a boastful tone, “But this isn’t my first rodeo.”

“Nor mine. It seems time still has plans for us both.”

“I guess so.”

For several moments they remained silent, comforted by the warmth of each others’ light, which pulled and pushed with a sense of familiarity and urgency, and flowed seamlessly between them. It was _uncanny_ how easily he was drawn to her, and he wondered if she felt it too. 

“What do you make of that?”

“I think it means next time we meet in the wild, I should be the one saving your princess ass.”

Laugher bubbled uncontrollably from her chest and rolled out in loud and long waves. She had almost forgotten. “If I were ever in as much trouble as the two of you, I would hope you’d do the same… It would be a pleasure to fight alongside you again…” she paused, waiting for his name.

“Merric… my name’s Merric.”

She smiled again. “It’s nice to meet you, Merric. I’m Laila.”

“I know.”


	3. Cataclysm- Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Half a year passes and everything seems to be going really well with the "new" Fireteam configuration, until Merric notices something unsettling about his new partner.
> 
> (Lazarus belongs to a friend)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Original publication date** : November 13th, 2015 to my tumblr blog --- <http://fireteam-daybreak.tumblr.com/post/133164723238/cataclysm-pt-1>
> 
> **Find this on Bungie.net** : [Bungie.net](https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/192305901?page=0&sort=0&showBanned=0&path=1)  
>  **Deviantart** : <http://fav.me/d9gkspx>

It didn’t take long for her to become his new favorite person.

After they'd met that night, Laila's presence around the tower was suddenly much more noticeable. Like most other Exo, she ran like clockwork, and he took note of where he found her during the day when they crossed paths.

Early in the mornings, just before the sun rose, she'd perch on the ledge just outside the Hall of the Vanguard and take a moment to herself to look down over the city as it stood another day in spite of the dangers outside its walls and far, far beyond. She'd wait for the sun to rise, close her eyes, and bask in the first rays of the new day. It was her ritual, her way of grounding and taking control of what lay ahead. It made him wonder what she’d endured if she felt the need to be so ceremonious. 

At daybreak she’d head indoors to check in with Andal for daily tasks, then with her Warlock friend Rue (Rue, he learned, had once led a fireteam of three that consisted of Laila, herself, and another Warlock named Barom, though he had been stuck by lightning and vanished in a violent storm during Venus’ dark months; he had not been heard from in two years). Before nine she spent her mornings in the hangar preparing for the day ahead.

Any time after nine but before five-thirty she spent in the wild, different planets, different days; the bounties and missions changed, but the timeframe was always the same. Around six in the afternoon, after her post-combat maintenance, she’d spend about an hour in the Hall of the Vanguard exchanging stories with Andal, just to brighten his day. At times he wondered if there was anything between them --- because as approachable as Andal was, he had never seen him break his “business front” and let down his guard with many other Guardians the way he did with Laila --- but it was hard to tell. She treated everyone with the same reverence and compassion; it was one of the many reasons Merric had started to fall so hard for her, and he also suspected, why she had so many admirers around the tower.

The evenings were less predictable though. Laila could be found anywhere from the tower Hangar, to the Archives, the crucible’s stomping grounds, or the Civilian districts. Sometimes he even found her on her morning perch in the middle of the night. The time he'd run into her while trying to subdue Wylynn, she'd happened to be taking a walk through the area. She liked to walk and let her mind wander, but most nights she spent in Rue’s library, reading everything she could. In her downtime behind the tower's walls Laila liked to read, but she also liked to people-watch. The library --- a room about eight hundred square feet on the ground but three stories tall with a large window stretching floor-to-ceiling --- overlooked the courtyard, allowing her to do both in an aesthetically pleasing setting. She was what humans called a “space-case”, always lost in thought. This general aloofness, compared to her cutthroat style of combat, made her an odd balance of chaos and calm, but she walked the line like an acrobat- full of passion, full of life, always anticipating the fall.

Sometimes he found her beyond the walls, and they'd exchange pleasantries, intel, and provide support for bounty completions. He learned he could depend on her, and she began to do the same. Their chemistry in battle grew and evolved with every passing firefight- every bullet, every strike, calculated and concluded without having to speak a word. She ducked, he fired over her head. She spun around and met him back-to-back, charged headlong into a crowd of enemies, struck them down in a zig-zag pattern and warped up into the air in a trail of arc light as a beam of solar light streaked by below, piercing through the skull of a major before incinerating the body. And she did it all without a word, only an enigmatic smile. They were seamlessly synched, two well-oiled machines, iron sharpening iron. He’d never felt so connected to anyone, but he wasn’t the only one benefitting from her company. 

Along with Laila’s regular presence around their part of the tower came Rue. Merric wasn’t surprised to learn that Dee and Wylynn were already well acquainted with her, seeing as the awoken were a closely knit group, despite class differences. They were connected by something more than friendship or duty, they were connected by something divine. 

Rue was good company for Wylynn, as her level-headed personality and “take-no-shit” philosophy off-set Wylynn’s fiery outbursts. On the days he felt Wylie would be more a hindrance than she would be a help, he left her behind in her care. Rue kept her grounded and focused, and after a few months, had her more stable and productive than she’d been since Nikel’s disappearance. Wylynn had always been a loose canon, flinging herself into fights she knew she couldn’t win because she knew she could resurrect if things went poorly, which made her a danger to those around her, but Rue dialed her back, taught her the value of evaluation on the battlefield. Taught her restraint and timing. The Vanguard, and her ghost, were as grateful for the discipline as he.

Soon their team of three became a team of five, unequally divided but still strong at its core. Wylynn did well on her own ( _or with Lazarus_ ), but it didn’t stop those that knew her from worrying about the reckless Sunsinger and her anxious ghost. Because Rue had her own ideas about how she could help fight the Darkness and hated to leave the archives, most days Merric sent Dee with Wylie to make sure she’d make it back in one piece, which left the two of them to hunt together. It wasn’t what he’d planned, but he wouldn’t complain.

The Vanguard caught wind of the fireteam’s new configuration and shifted the distribution of their workflow to better suit their strengths. Andal liked to hand his hunters reconnaissance and target orders, while Zavala and Ikorra preferred to retrieve information and thin out the swarms attempting to intercept it. They didn’t mind sharing but when classes’ interests collided it meant a greater chance for failure, there wasn’t any denying it; although Merric and Dee had worked well together in the field, Laila had proven to be the better match for Merric. Andal soon stopped assigning them patrols and placed them into more complicated assignments. Usually they went off without a hitch, but after half a year of being with Laila in the wild every day, Merric started to notice something he hadn’t before… something that unsettled him.

In her gentle disposition and quiet smiles were flickers of uncertainty, of emptiness, of sorrow, that flared full-bore when she was lost in the trance. There was something to be said of a disciplined Bladedancer who could accomplish precision with the chaotic force of arc energy- such focus required the wielder to empty their mind and let it pass through them from end to end before channeling it into deadly blows. It wasn’t easy, but Laila executed this control flawlessly, as if she’d been born into it; but some days she let her emotions run away with her, which manifested in the form of an over-reaching strike or a stumble in the dirt as she found her footing. Even if she had lost focus for only a few milliseconds, it could mean the difference between dodging a bullet or taking one to the chest, and those odds bothered him, ate at him. 

He watched her more carefully, staying two steps ahead of every enemy he could, but it was hard to keep so many processes running at once in an already high-stress environment; it took a toll on him mentally. Merric found himself needing to rest at the end of each day to clear out his cache and allow his circuits a chance to idle, something most Exo only needed to do every once in a while; they were built to run, the need for rest made him feel obsolete.

Although Laila couldn’t have understood why he was so tired all the time, she had seen the effects of fatigue in humans and rationalized that because they too were very human, he was “allowed to need rest”, though it pained her to see him suffer. She sympathized and stayed with him as he slept to help him rest easier, often curled up against him with a book to keep herself occupied, but sometimes she’d get lost in her own thoughts and chase the rabbit a little too far. Sometimes Merric would wake and she would be gone. He could tell something was bothering her, but he didn’t dare ask. Laila would tell him in time; if she needed to get it off of her chest, she knew she could confide in him. But even though he knew the day was coming, it still caught him off guard. 

Their patrol of the Cosmodrome had been interrupted by an incoming retrieval request from Arach Jalaal, something about Golden Age schematics in King’s Watch. After confirming with Andal that the mission had already been cleared by the Vanguard, they made their ascent to the top of King’s Watch. Laila breezed through the pawns as they moved out in droves, throwing six to eight dreg at a time at the hunters, each falling in rapid succession as their hand cannons popped off rounds powerful enough to blow their heads clean off.

The Vandals came next, and they stood their ground with shotguns and scout rifles at the ready. Wire rifle rounds plinked off of their shields as snipers fired steadily from a distance, but the buzzing of shields and movement on his radar told Merric the snipers weren’t their only problem. “Stalkers,” he mumbled quietly over the comms as he moved back into cover to reload and prep a grenade. Laila crouched low and swung back into an alcove, allowing herself a moment for her cloaking to activate before moving up on the vandal guards and out of his sight. By the time he looked up, she was gone. Dread struck him as fear pooled in.

“Laila…?” he whispered fearfully, listening for any sort of indication of a scuffle, of screams, whether it be fallen or not. But there was nothing, only the shields ringing in his ears. He had to get up there. Merric stood and whipped the tripmine against the wall, parallel to the floor, and almost immediately it detonated, revealing three injured vandals holding their heads and screaming for reinforcements. He shot them down before they could reach him, then turned his attention to Laila as her blade tore through the throat of one of the snipers, which gurgled a scream as it collapsed and struggled against death. A Captain Major stared him down intently from the skyview, almost smirking as he rallied the remaining forces, and he clenched his jaw at the sight. There hadn’t been anything about a Baron in the Vanguard’s reports… reconnaissance would have been the smart thing to do, he should have known better than to ambush the conniving house of Kings. 

Twenty more were upon them in seconds, and from behind the boiler on the left side of the room, Merric heard her arcblade ring out as it materialized. No… there’re too many… His processors overclocked, fans nearly spinning off their bearings; fear morphed into terror as the picture became more clear. Behind the Baron were two more shielded Vandals, Reavers, and they let out a blood-curtling screech as they waved their slaves to charge. Dregs and shanks bore down on him so quickly, he only had time to jump out of the way, and he hoped Laila would do the same. As he crouched behind a crate on one of the upper balconies, he took the opportunity to switch to something more useful at a distance. “Minnie… Multi-tool!” His Last Word vanished from his hands, quickly replaced by the familiar frame of the rifle, which he reloaded as soon as it dropped into his grasp.

He could hear the arc waves below as they caught fleeing foes in their wake, the crackling sound of bodies disintegrating. It was both reassuring and unsettling; she was still alive, still fighting, but surrounded by a sea of enemies. 

Without thinking too much more about how he needed to “do something”, he opened fire on every last Fallen in the room. Nearly every shot found a critical zone, and those that didn’t still found their mark. First he cleared the shanks, then the snipers, the vandals, saving the dregs for last. They were annoying in numbers, but weak. They’d be easier for Laila to handle in close-combat. Every now and then he had to hesitate from firing as her arc-trail lit up his scope, but the pack thinned quickly. Within five minutes, the room was clear, save for the Reavers and the Baron.

Laila slowed to a stop in the middle of the room, having exhausted her reserve of light, and lifted her eyes to the Fallen standing defiantly on their pedestal. Mechanical limbs heaved her shotgun up to eye-level, and aimed it at one of the Reavers shakily. There it was… the uncertainty, the fear.

Merric dropped from his perch and sidled up to her with haste. He couldn’t see her face but he knew what she was thinking. “Stand down,” he commanded, more out of concern than authority.

“I can take them.” The bulbs in her throat throbbed a vibrant orange, determined and hostile. This wasn’t the Laila he knew, he’d never seen her like this; her tone was chilling, low and hungry, her stance and white-knuckle grip desperately begging for a fight. 

“We,” he corrected her, eyes shifting between her and the Fallen, “We’ll do it together.”

Laila remained silent beside him for several minutes, all nerves and fury, broken and dangerous to everyone around her, including herself. The Fallen must have sensed it too, because they didn’t attack as she took her time to reflect. She was beauty, albeit lacking grace. 

But after a few minutes of nothing, the Baron retreated, leaving the two Vandal Reavers behind to deal with the Guardians.

Laila’s anger flared once again, renewed by his dismissal of the two of them as threats, her light penetrating and alarming.

“Please, just calm down, don’t do anything-“

But she had already bolted forward, launched herself into a violent blink that dropped her on top of one of the Vandals, shotgun bearing down on its head before it had a chance to react. The initial blast dealt considerable damage to its shields, and after two more rounds, it staggered back, unable to employ a counterattack, which the other compensated for.

Laila groaned as the blade slashed across her back, once, twice… and with a venemous growl she turned toward the second and whipped her knife toward its head, but missed as it dodged. She was spiraling like he hadn’t seen before, just what was happening…?

Amidst her recklessness, Merric had retrieved his heavy weapon from storage; as Laila turned toward the still shielded Vandal, he unloaded into the now un-shielded brute. For what seemed like half a minute, it withstood the barrage from the BTRD, but finally stumbled, dropped to its knees, and bled out on the floor. Then from behind him came a scream he never wanted to hear again.

Laila crumpled over and dropped to her knees as he turned to stop it from happening, but the Vandal’s blade was already raised high above her head, ready to land the killing blow.

In a moment of sheer panic, he flung his knife into its eye, which stunned it long enough for him to scoop her up, turn, and roll out of the way of the descending blade; it whizzed past his helmet and cut clean through the trail of his cloak, tearing it off at one shoulder. 

Rage burned through him as he lay there, holding her tightly, listening to her groan… why hadn’t she waited? Why hadn’t she accepted his help?

Merric rose, tore the scrap fabric from his shoulders and peeled off his helmet. His visor retracted into his frame so he could look upon the beast with his own two eyes, and for a moment, he saw its resolve falter, caught the subtle half-step away from him at the sight of his artificial face. He’d always looked angrier than he felt, but in that moment it couldn’t come close the level of hatred he felt toward the Reaver. It would suffer for what it had done.

It hailed one last battle cry before it charged, but it morphed into a terrified scream as two fiery shots pierced its chest. It stumbled, writhed in pain and scratched frantically at its wounds, hoping to put out the permeating light turning its body to ash.

Merric watched it struggle for a few moments… letting it feel the pain that Laila had felt, the pain it had dealt… took two steps forward and kicked it square in the chest, knocking it to the ground. The last shot, he’d saved, and he pressed the golden gun between its eyes as he crushed its throat under his boot, giving it time to panic, time to process that its efforts, in servitude, had been for nothing.

He felt better as he pulled the trigger, as the body corroded into dust beneath his foot, but he was still mortified.

He thought they had everything under control.


	4. Cataclysm- Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After scolding her for her recklessness, Merric sits Laila down and has a heart-to-heart about what's bothering her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Original publication date** : November 17th, 2015 to my tumblr blog --- <http://fireteam-daybreak.tumblr.com/post/133406243430/cataclysm-pt-2>
> 
> **Find this on Bungie.net** : [Bungie.net](https://www.bungie.net/en/Forums/Post/196793547?page=0&sort=0&showBanned=0&path=0)  
>  **Deviantart** : <http://fav.me/d9gyekd>

Merric quickly crossed the room, picked her up in both of his arms, and moved her over into the light where he could get a better look at the damage. Laila was awake, though dazed and confused. He could feel the way she leered at him weakly from behind her mask as he carried her, but he ignored her display of pride; he was just as annoyed as she was.

“Minnie, Nyx- get to work on that console,” he instructed with a hiss as he nodded toward the circular console in the middle of the room projecting a hologram of the Traveler. “Grab what we came for… and find out what they were doing here.”

The ghosts hesitated, glanced at one another, then retreated in subservience, leaving them alone.

He set her down on one of the crates near the skyview window and leaned her back against the pillar it was stacked next to, then crouched down to get a better look at the damage. Merric’s fingers traced the deep gash from the upper right side of her stomach, through her breastplate, over her right shoulder to her neck, and into the lower right side of her jaw. It was deep, her armor damaged beyond reasonable repair, the wound in her exodermis slowly seeping oil at the neck; his thumb paused over it and he couldn’t hold back the twinge of sadness as it hit him. Lips drew tight and he hung his head, lights dimmed as he felt the anger flush out of him. This could have been a lot worse than it was. “What was that?” he almost snapped as he looked back up at her with penetrating eyes.

Laila’s head rolled back a little and her throat flashed a few times defensively, though she remained quiet… indecisive. He had only ever bared himself to her once or twice in the year that they had been together, and it always made her feel so vulnerable. Fingers uncurled and limbs relaxed as her eyes fell to the floor.

Merric tilted his head, waited a few moments more for an answer, but when it didn’t come, he reached up and began to unbuckle the destroyed chestplate, tossed it aside, then unhitched her helmet and gently pulled it off. 

Unsettled eyes lifted from her lap to his bulbs as the mask came off, hurt by his tone... wanting to retreat back inside of herself rather than explain what she was feeling.

Guilt thick as lead sank into the pit of his chasse, but he steeled his resolve and looked back at her, unflinching and ready. “Laila…” he started, low and calm, not missing the way her shoulders sank a little as he said her name. “What’s wrong?”

She deflected her gaze to the left of the room, settled it on the empty space as she hesitated… then shook her head. Merric didn’t have to watch the light show to feel the emotional turmoil warring within her. The erratic wavelength of her light spoke volumes more than she was capable of at the moment.

“It’s not like I haven’t noticed,” he noted in attempt to coax the truth out of her. Hands settled firmly on her thighs as he sat up on his knees and locked stern eyes with hers. “You know, we’re beyond the point of acting like it’s no big deal.” 

Brow plates pressed toward the center of her face and she smiled weakly in spite of herself. “I know… I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For making you worry…” her voice trailed off, her eyes following.

“Damn right you are,” he replied with a small, fond grin. “And what else?”

Laila paused, thrown by the implication that she needed to apologize for more than just making him worry.

“We’re a team now, you don’t have to fight your battles alone anymore- whether they’re physical or mental. If you need help, don’t push me away,” he stressed as she gave him a soft nod. “Whatever it is…” he paused to make sure she was listening, _really_ listening. “… you can trust me.”

In a flash her somber expression turned to embarrassment, to sadness, then shame. Had he really come to the conclusion that she didn’t trust him? “No- no it’s not that- It’s not that I don’t… _trust you_ …” she started, stuttering out the words in a hurry to get her point across, but she stopped and took a moment to compose herself before saying anything more. Her throat lights softly flashed, like a sigh, and she looked back down at him with an expression that spoke loudly of how she hoped he’d understand what she was about to say. “It’s just-…”

Another pause, this time not quickly followed by an afterthought. Laila took her time as Merric patiently waited for her to choose her words. “…” she glanced over at him hesitantly, but smothered the uncertainty clouding her mind. “… do you ever think about things that aren’t real… things that have _never happened_ … as if they had?”

The shutters of his eyes dilated as his mind raced across several instances in half a second, in which he’d had a similar experience but had written off as a dream. He hesitated, wondering if it was wise to continue the conversation further, but when he looked up and saw the pain in her eyes, he realized how deeply it was affecting her. “… sometimes I dream…” he admitted uncertainly.

She shifted her gaze and shook her head. “We don’t dream, Merric… we don’t possess the subroutines for that.”

Of course they didn’t, he knew that… but what else could they be? He lowered his gaze, waiting to see what she was getting at. “Then what?”

Laila opened her mouth to speak but her voice caught, fear swelling in her throat.

Merric placed a hand over hers reassuringly, lifted his chin a little higher and blinked softly, giving her his full attention; she reciprocated the gesture, lowered her head and sat up a bit taller as if taking in a big breath. 

“… I think they’re memories.”

“Memories…?”

She nodded quietly and they sat in silence for a few moments more; he waited for her to elaborate, and she waited to hear his reaction to her conclusion, but when neither bit for what was considered an _uncomfortable_ amount of time by Exo standards, he spoke up.

“How long has this been going on?”

“A little over a year… though it’s becoming more frequent.”

“Is anything specific triggering them?”

Laila started to shake her head, but stopped mid-epiphany. She hadn’t noticed until he asked, but there was something. “… it’s unpredictable, but… I usually start to remember when my functions are under heavy stress.”

“So, when you fight?”

She nodded this time.

He frowned; unfortunate timing.

“And the more I stress my systems… The more I remember…”

Merric closed his eyes hard and grimaced. He already knew what she was going to say next, he’d seen what that meant. “Laila-“

“And if I don’t keep it going, I lose it,” she finished, leaning forward a bit as he sat back on his heels and pulled his hand away. Merric redirected his gaze away from her to the floor beside him and clenched his jaw tightly as he closed his eyes. A pained look spread across her face and her chest sank sadly. “I’m sorry… I just wanted to-“

“I don’t want you to apologize for pursuing something that’s important to you…” he interjected quickly, before she could justify throwing herself into harm’s way without regard for her own life. It wasn’t an excuse he could take. “… but you need to slow down…” his voice trailed off quietly as he opened his eyes and glanced up at her hardened expression, before settling his gaze on the wound at her throat. “I can see this is important to you, and I’ll help you in any way I can… but I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Lids faltered weakly and she blinked in surprise, her lights almost completely dimmed. The world went quiet for a moment as a flash of intense fondness overwrote whatever sub had dictated her feelings toward him before. It was incredibly sweet of him.

“There has to be another way… a safer way to help you remember… and we’ll figure it out.” Serenity resurfaced into the soft, warm smile that was usually so characteristic of her, and he felt that fluttery spike in his processes again. It hit him hard and pushed back onto his heels just a little bit, dropped him to one knee as he mimicked clearing his throat. Eyes swept the room toward their ghosts before looking back to her. “Alright…?”

“Okay… I’ll try to remember that…”

He gave a firm nod, then looked over toward the console, where the bots were _supposed_ to have been working, but instead found prying eyes scurrying back into hiding, pretending to be working. “Do you have what we came for?” he asked in a demanding tone. 

“Just a few more minutes!”

“Sure! Fine! Just take your time… it’s not like the Kings could return any second.” They both shook their heads as Laila glanced away to hide the enormous grin on her face.

Fingers brushed over the plate that had undoubtedly saved her life, then picked it up as he stood and paced in the light of the sunset streaking through the window. For a moment he stopped and took a hard look at it, feeling a sense of recognition rather than familiarity.

An interruption in his data stream seized his grasp of the present as he was transported, momentarily, back to Twilight Gap.

 _Static._  
A sea of Guardians, clashing against Fallen- Winter, Devils, Kings.  
Laila, Dee, Rue, Wylynn… two more he didn’t recognize ran with the pack, firing shots of concentrated solar light and nova bombs into the decay.  
_Static._  
Flashes of screams from a nameless Warlock.  
“Behind you! Run!”  
The red lazer of a Fallen Walker aimed into the crowd where she stood.  
Explosions, hopelessness, death.  
Chaos.  
_More Static._  
She smiled at him and reached out her hand, laughed, embraced.  
“I love you.”  
_Static._  
Screaming, terrified looks.  
Falling through the sky, fingers slipping through his grasp.  
NO!  
Debris crashing down on top of him.  
_Dead static._

“Merric…?”

A soft hand on his shoulder drew him out of his trance.

And then he was back, eyes frozen on the plate in his hand, fingers still tracing the crack, with the weight of a thousand worlds on his shoulders. He felt sick in the way only a machine could- frozen, unable to process. There was too much scattered information, too many unanswered questions, no rules for them to associate. The numbers just didn’t add up, unsolvable quantities that he had to quarantine or risk irreparable damage.

If this was what she’d been dealing with, he couldn’t fathom how she was able to function at all… but her words in his memories echoed, over and over again.

_I love you._

What had they been…?

Merric was grateful that he was able to hide his emotions relatively well, because this wasn’t something he was ready to talk about just yet. This was too new.

“We’re ready to go now.”

He nodded, turned and slipped the armor into her hands with a small grin as he passed. “It had a good run… but we’ll need to get you something new.”

She smiled quietly, turning it over in her grasp as she turned to follow him. “I’m sure Rahool could find some use for it… but maybe I’ll keep it.”

He laughed. “Why? That thing’s a piece of junk now!”

“Yeah… but it makes for a good reminder…”

“…” Merric was silent, unsure of how to respond, picked up their helmets as Minnie brought the ship down and prepped for transmat, and eyed her exposed chest warily. Laila was just as beautiful under the armor as she was with it, but wandering around in the wild down to her suit was suicide. And while it was unlikely they’d run into trouble between then and the time their shuttle arrived, it still made him uncomfortable. He’d had enough close calls for one day. 

“Do you have any spares for the trip back?”

She nodded and gestured to Nyx to materialize something new from storage. She removed her hood and slipped the chestplate on with a few clicks, threw her cloak around her shoulders and shifted it into place as she pulled the hood back up over her head; she eyed him with a coy grin as the shadow shaded her eyes. “Can I have my helmet back…?”

It took him a moment to realize he’d been staring at the turn of her lips, but when he did he extended his visor reflexively, shoved the helmet into her hands, and walked away at a brisk pace. Where were these feelings _coming from_?

“So what are your memories about…?” he asked over his shoulder as he headed for the back of the room, trying to change the subject.

“Well...” she started thoughtfully as she followed, helmet under her arm, “I haven’t gotten much but, there was a woman… human… a scientist.” She paused with a glum look in her eye and a small frown. “She said I was special… different.”

His expression remained the same but confusion clouded his logic. Her memories made even less sense than his own. 

The more she talked, and with such fervency, the more he realized just how badly he wanted to know the truth behind his own. Merric had never really given himself time to ponder over them, but Laila spent most of hers trying to untangle the mess. A lot of her habits started to make sense, the pieces clicked into place. Sure she remembered this with the most vivid clarity, but he couldn’t help but wonder if there was more. He remembered her, but did she remember him…?

They parted ways at the tower hangar- Laila scurried off to deliver the recovered information to Arach, while Merric stayed behind to start post-combat maintenance. He sat in silence for five, ten minutes, before curiosity finally got the best of him. Something Minnie had said to him once had come back to him during his conversation with Laila, and he couldn’t get it out of his head. So he asked. 

“Minnie…?”

She materialized, black and white, red optics flitting about inquisitively. “Yes? What can I do for you?”

“What did you mean about “past lives”?”

The ghost lofted back and spun on its axis, ducking its appendages to shy away from him. “... why do you ask?”

He paused for a moment to think of the right way to put it, then stated, “I remember her from somewhere… from another life.” Merric glanced over at Minnie, her movement confirming his suspicions. She did know something, and he wanted to know what. “Who was she…? To me? What was I to her?”

It sighed verbally and lowered down beside him. She knew the day would come again, and she’d been preparing for it for longer than she’d thought. Time to begin the cycle again. “Well… if you really want to know… I have encrypted information that will help you understand.”

Merric’s face contorted, even more confused than he’d been for the last two hours. 

“It’s a message… from your former self… only to be given when the time is right… when you think you are truly ready for it.”

Merric was astonished, so much so that he sat back and fell hard against the hull of the ship. Information… from his former self? They were memories, memories so important that he felt the need to remind himself of them, to never lose them. Just how important was she to him? Suddenly he wasn’t so sure he was ready to know. Any deeper of an attachment meant he’d feel a pain deeper than he had that day if something of equal or greater devastation happened again. Merric wouldn’t handle it well, if at all. Instead, he just shook his head. “She was that important…?”

If ghosts could smile, she would have then. Merric could feel her radiating adoration, even if it did feel misplaced. “Mickey… she was _the most important person_ in your life… as were you to her.”

His lights flashed hot, fear flooding into him again. 

“But if you aren’t ready to know yet, I’ll keep it safe until the day you are.”

He nodded, turned his head toward her, and sunk his shoulders and head against the wall. He was tired, so tired… it was time for him to rest for the day. 

“You do that… I’m gonna take a quick nap…”

“Would you like to find a more comfortable resting place?”

“Comfort is irrelevant.”

“Right… sleep well then, Mick.”

“Thanks Min’.” 

Merric set the weapon aside, crossed his arms and ankles, slumped down and shut off his HUD, paused any and all processes and closed unneeded applications, then finally put himself to rest. He needed it more than he wanted to admit.


End file.
